Page 41 of Slightly Married
“This conversation will happen, Michaila.” His tone left no room for argument despite the surprising gentleness with which he spoke my name.
The makeshift outfit wouldn’t win any fashion awards, but at least I didn’t look completely disheveled. Thankfully, I was wearing sandals when he’d kidnapped me from the garden.
Now that I felt somewhat presentable, I faced him directly. “Why are you being like this? Take me home.”
His expression tightened. “I’ve found putting you over my shoulder yielded more efficient results. Would you prefer my returning to that method?”
I rolled my eyes, though my body betrayed me with a small shiver at the undercurrent in his voice. “Fine, I’ll come with you, but you can’t make me talk.”
I wasn’t even sure why I was being difficult. There was nothing romantic between Yiorgos and me. I could easily clear up this misunderstanding.
But something inside me rebelled against Konstantin’s assumption that he had the right to demand explanations. He’d left me for weeks without a word while he traveled with his fiancée.
Besides, his jealousy gave me a perverse satisfaction. Let him wonder. Let him feel just a fraction of the confusion I’d been dealing with since our first kiss.
14
Iawoke with a dull throbbing ache in my leg. The pain served as a persistent reminder of the shooting. This particular wound, I sensed, would never truly heal.
Stepping onto the balcony of my Corfu estate, I welcomed the cool morning breeze against my skin as I lit a cigar. Uncertainty wasn’t a sensation I typically entertained—this feeling of being adrift, without clear direction—and I found it profoundly unsettling.
After the incident in the car, I’d whisked Kayla onto my private jet bound for Corfu, unable to consider any other destination where we might find privacy. She’d been rightfully furious about traveling, but her anger had transformed into something else entirely somewhere over the Mediterranean.
I still felt the ghost of her fingers digging into my shoulders as she’d straddled me on the jet’s leather seat, taking what she wanted. Upon reaching this estate, we’d barely made it through the door before I had her pressed against the wall, both of us insatiable.
Between rounds of lovemaking, she’d demanded takeout and my bank card. She purchased ten new dresses, along with several other items, to be delivered later today. I hadn’t checked the total. I would give her anything she asked for.
Throughout the night, I returned to her again and again, as if her body contained some essential element I’d been missing my entire life. I craved her presence, her voice, her unfiltered reactions. This unfamiliar hunger for another person’s company was perhaps the most disorienting development of all.
My phone rang, and I saw Stella’s name on the screen. I’d almost forgotten about her. Almost.
“I’m back in Athens. Where are you?” Her voice carried a note of accusation beneath the question.
Stella’s voice should have been a welcome reminder of my commitments. Instead, I found myself impatient for the call to end.
“Corfu,” I replied, watching a fishing boat cut through the waters below.
“I can come to you,” she offered. “I’ve never seen the property and would love to spend time with you.”
“I appreciate the offer, Stella, but I need this time for myself.”
“This time of year is hard for both of us. We can help each other. Don’t shut me out, my love.”
I exhaled a stream of smoke, watching it dissipate in the breeze. The anniversary of the shooting, which left me injured and my friend dead, was moving closer.
“How about you visit your father in Switzerland? He’ll need you more than I do right now.”
There was a pause. “Papa never went to Switzerland.”
The news wasn’t surprising, but her timing was. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“You’ve not exactly been the most responsive lately. It’s your marriage to that woman. I think you should end it. It’s not worth the distance in our relationship.”
I turned at the sound of movement to see Kayla appearing in the balcony doorway, shifting aside the filmy curtains that threatened to envelop her face in the breeze.
“I have to go,” I told Stella, ending the call before she could protest.
“You okay?” Kayla stood before me in a robe, her eyes studying my face.
